Fang Lele was a country boy through and through. His most striking feature was his pair of big, luminous eyes, full of innocence, untouched by the world.
He was like a sprite hidden deep in a forest, with neat, practical short hair and skin that glowed faintly from long hours in the sun. Every inch of him brimmed with vitality.
Cheng Yue had been away from the village for nearly eight years. The little boy who used to trail after him, calling him "Brother Yue," had now grown into a strong young man.
"Brother, my mom sent me over to help."
When Fang Lele said he was there to work, he meant it. After briefly explaining why he had come, he grabbed the shovel he had brought along. One thrust accomplished what Cheng Yue had spent ages struggling to do.
Cheng Yue had intended to exchange a few polite words, but the boy had already cleared a narrow path. With no time left for talking, he hurriedly grabbed his sickle and joined in.
Once a man passed twenty-five, he might as well be sixty.
Cheng Yue had always thought that was slander. Now, sprawled on the ground and drenched in sweat, he watched the sturdy nineteen-year-old ahead of him, whose breathing had not even changed.
He had to admit there was some truth to the saying.
An hour later, the entire yard had been cleared. Fang Lele even went home to fetch a little welded iron cart and hauled the weeds to the village dump.
While he was gone, Cheng Yue dragged his heavy legs to the little shop and bought a pack of bottled water, along with some milk and biscuits.
"Take these home."
"My mom said I'm not allowed to accept anything!" Fang Lele said matter-of-factly, his voice